


No Good At Falling

by CreamcheeseBagel



Series: We're Blue Birds [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Batfamily, Batfamily Feels, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Big Brother Jason Todd, Caring Jason Todd, Depressed Dick Grayson, Depressed Tim, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Dick Grayson, Overdose, Resurrected Jason Todd, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Tim Drake is Robin, discussion of suicide, in this house we love these three idiots, looks at smudged hand and damian, rest in peace to jasons bathroom rug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 20:57:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20014702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreamcheeseBagel/pseuds/CreamcheeseBagel
Summary: Dick took the leap and fell.Jason revisits his current safe house to find his brother dying on the bathroom floor.(Batfamily).





	No Good At Falling

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags. This story will deal with depression and does specifically discuss an attempted suicide, and unresolved suicidal feelings. Due to Dick's current mental state he could be construed as selfish in this story, depending upon your own views.
> 
> I'm also definitely not a doctor; however Dick is being actively monitored and kept hydrated. So we're taking liberties. 
> 
> However, I am looking to post a few more Batfamily focused stories (Damian included). So if you feel like you'd like to see some more stories, sad or happy, don't hesitate to show me some love.

_‘I’m tired, Jay. Really tired. I don’t know why’._

Jason swept his arm wide, making a performance of punching an array of pill bottles into the bathroom sink. He unscrewed each lid slowly, shaking the pills out and running the tap. Dick sat on the edge of the bathtub, his fingers white around the rim, watching his brother through a slowly shifting tunnel.

‘My flat is now PG,’ Jason growled, turning round in one breathe and knocking a pint of water into Dick’s hand in the other. The tap plinked lazily. Jason watched Dick take a small sip and rolled up the soiled rug; he dumped into the bin without flair.

‘You stay over once and you're already ruining my bathroom?’ Jason murmured, too blunt to be affectionate. He squeezed a large hand on Dick’s knee. Neither commented on Jason’s tremble.

The older man swayed forwards with the motion, wincing as awash of dizziness fell to his toes. Dick could taste the vomit in his throat, feel the flecks underneath his tongue and the layer against his teeth. He ignored his heavy mouth, his eyes rolling as he tried to focus.

Tension resettled over the siblings.

‘Should we talk about this?’ Jason questioned, an old uncertainty filling his chest. He wanted to scream and punch sense into his brother, wrap him into a hug and cry all at once. Instead Jason wrapped an arm around Dick’s shoulders and manoeuvred him easily into the haphazard lounge. The acrobat was unsteady on his feet, leaning heavily, his breathe acidic.

Dick swallowed around the tight burn in his throat. ‘Sofa. Please’.

‘So not the floor then,’ Jason snapped remembering Dick’s clammy face and grasping fingers. ‘Let’s overdose on the sofa instead. Much comfier than the bathroom floor,’ he barked, shoving Dick hard. Dick crashed boneless into the musty sofa cushions, too sluggish to roll over and retaliate. Instead he sunk into the nausea, a half lidded eye peeking up at his towering sibling like an ant beneath a magnifying glass. He felt disconnected from his reality; unmoored and weightless the sofa rocked beneath him. He clung to the furniture for dear life, the irony sloshing around his stomach.

Jason slammed the glass of water on top of the makeshift table, the duck-taped crate groaned. His hand twitched to launch it into the wall.

‘Puke on my carpet. Yeah, sure. Let us all be fifteen again!’ Jason growled, snapping his fingers until Dick shifted and fixed him with a reluctant stare. ‘Whatever. But dying is a talent I’m not willing to share,’ Jason shouted, his metaphorical lid punching a hole through the roof. Dick winced.

Jason turned on him, looming over the couch, a hand grasping Dick’s shoulder in an unrelenting grip. ‘I’ve got you,’ he whispered, pointed. His thumb traced a small pattern into the sharp bone. A small creak caught his attention and Jason whipped his head to scrutinise the only bedroom door being nudged open. ‘But you’ve got to use that big brain and ask for help’, he continued, watching as sheepish blue eyes peeked back at him from the doorway.

Jason pushed Dick back into the cushions. ‘Replacement…’ he growled in greeting, turning to face Tim hurriedly exiting the bedroom, his oversized hoodie jingling with his lock-picking tools; he’d only texted the brat half an hour ago, when Dick had slurred an apology and promptly vomited on Jason’s boots. His favourite pair no less. The eldest had also let himself into the safe house earlier that day, but Jason could still not decipher how long he’d been alone.

‘Zombie,’ Tim huffed, fixing his hair and immediately taking his place at Dick’s head. Jason pretended he couldn’t see his younger sibling fussing over every rise and fall of Dick’s chest, his fingers skating over his exposed throat.

‘You break the latch?’ Jason grunted, already working his way around the small kitchen. He couldn’t sit still and watch their Red Robin run a further diagnostic check on Dick.

‘You _didn’_ t hear me pick the lock?’ Tim teased, he pocketed his phone and looked calmer. His whole body reeked of his jittery nerves but he managed a small smile. Jason returned and replaced the absent mobile with a mug of coffee.

Jason gently jostled Dick into the centre of the couch so he could stretch out on his left, and shrugged. Dick lolled into Jason’s lap, too comfortable to feel the flush of shame. Tim carefully folded the acrobats long legs over his own lap and nestled himself into the sofa with a long sip of coffee. He scrubbed at his heavy eyes with his free hand, pointedly ignoring Jason and his raised brows. Dick began to snore lightly.

‘Boyblunder was ruining my bathroom,’ Jason sighed, ‘I had to throw the bath mat out’.

‘There we go,’ Tim sighed over the coffee mug. ‘It was disgusting. Silver lining and all’. Jason reached over Dick’s now sleeping form and mussed Tim’s hair. ‘Is he going to be okay though, Jason?’.

‘We got most of the pills up…’ Jason grumbled, now running his hands through Dick’s greasy hair. ‘If he woke up in a hospital, I don’t think he would be able to forgive me. Amazing huh? But serves him right, he can wake up on my shitty couch and smell like cigarettes for a couple of days…’.

‘Usually you’re the thick headed one,’ Tim sniffed tipping the already empty coffee cup onto the carpet and hiding his face in the crook of his arm. His shoulders shook. ‘I don’t get it! I thought- that it would be me…I’d,’ he sobbed into his arm, unraveling he stared wide eyed at Jason. ‘Help me understand!’.

Jason stiffened, his words clipped. ‘I’d kill you first,’ he whispered, revisiting the urge to hold Tim too. ‘You’ve both got big stupid hearts. Always had a big heart, Dick. Couple of chips on his shoulder, but who hasn’t? Always a high flyer. But he’s no good at falling’.

Tim traced his fingers over Dick’s legs, feeling his flushed skin through the denim. He chewed his cheek, wanting to snip back at Jason for being heartfelt, attack him with his words, but he couldn’t summon the passion. He couldn’t tear down one brother as their eldest cut his hands clinging.

Jason rolled his neck, watching his replacement carefully. Each of the Robins could school their expression, repress feelings and be pragmatic in the face of terror. But Jason was quietly glad that Tim was crying, that the young teenager was allowing himself to feel and grieve. He appreciated the naked honesty.

Tim sniffed loudly, wiping his nose along his jumper.

‘You’ll be okay, kid. I’m here for both of you’.

Tim smiled, small and shaky. ‘Do I have to be extra nice now?’.

Jason laughed heartedly, catching the slight water to his own eyes. ‘Don’t even think about letting him use one of your laptops! It’ll be full of coding and family photos or something sentimental and stupid’.

‘If he wanted to, he could have _all_ my laptops,’ Tim whispered, Jason at the forefront of his mind also. He continued twisting the denim in his fingers. ‘If it made _him_ happy’.

Jason swallowed hard against his need for a cigarette.

‘Don’t be an idiot,’ Jason grumbled, waving away Tim’s scowl. ‘He’ll wake up soon and see us crying into his favourite jeans and say something _dickish’._

‘Like, ‘if I knew you liked my jeans so much I would have bought you a pair’,’ Tim sobbed.

‘Has to be at least one awful pun,’ Jason corrected reaching over to flick Tim’s ear. ‘You _ear_ me!’.

Tim flushed, biting down hard on his lip against the bubble of laughter.

‘I’m glad you told me’

‘It’s good you’re being honest too’ Jason replied. He wasn’t grateful that Dick had been slumped half dead on his favourite rug by the time he’d gotten home, but he now had both of his brothers beside him, and he now knew they truly needed him. He just wasn’t sure how they’d be able to keep this from Bruce.

Jason scrubbed a calloused hand down his face, groaning. ‘Go get me a coffee, Timmy. I’ll take the first shift’.

‘But I just got here!’

‘I need a coffee and you need to look like you’re not sporting two black eyes. So scoot!’

He watched Tim uncurl himself and stomp to the kitchen. He smiled at the small exclaim Tim couldn’t hide as he found a not so secret stache of coffee and tea beneath the sink.

‘As you’re there, make a sandwich then fuck off to bed. My rooms over by the bathroom. Only one. Now has a broken window. Sheets are as clean as they’ll get’.

‘You’ll wake me up? I need to know if anything changes. If he starts to choke-’, Tim questioned, appearing a few moments later with a half-eaten sandwich.

‘Scouts honour, replacement!’ Jason purred. ‘Not my first rodeo. But if you try getting up before I call you- actually screw that. If you’re staying in my love nest, I at least expect you to try and sleep’.

‘Gross’

‘I promise the sheets are extra silky…!’

‘I need sleep _not_ nightmares!’ Tim groaned, shoving the last of the sandwich into his mouth and slinking off.

Jason pushed his fingertips to Dick’s steadying pulse and nodded slowly. ‘We’ve got you, Blue. So do me a favour and wake up soon’.


End file.
